


one

by possumsunshine



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, my detective levy is trans as hell lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29943966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possumsunshine/pseuds/possumsunshine
Summary: i have written an absolute crapton of stuff for mason and my detective, and i'm throwing it all in one big filemost of it is unfinished snippets with no real beginning or end, none of it is edited, content warnings at the beginning of each chapter, please enjoy
Relationships: Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Male Detective & Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Male Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> just general horniness in this one lads

The common room door nearly flies off the hinges from the force with which it's thrown open. Levy flinches at the sound of it, which sends a pang of regret through Mason's chest--too much--but the detective instantly settles as Mason comes to him in a blur, hands hovering over the smaller man's arms, asking for permission. 

Levy leans into them. 

Mason roams over the detective, tilting his chin, his arms, petting over his ribs and sides in a restrained panic that makes Levy twitch and giggle. Without protest, he allows it, but watches him with an expression that Mason can't identify.

He tries not to think about it.

"Are you hurt?" Mason growls, low and tempered. His hands find their way back to Levy's jaw, thumbs running over his cheeks. "What was it?" 

"I don't know. Honestly," Levy adds at the instant knit of Mason's eyebrows. "I don't. I'm fine, Mace. Whatever it was didn't try to hurt me or anything. It was just...watching." 

As gently as he can, Mason moves Levy to meet his eyes, grey finding dark. He looks for anything, any twitch, any palpitation, anything that might indicate that the detective is hiding something for Mason's sake. 

Levy smiles.

Mason lowers his hackles. 

Why were they raised in the first place? 

Weird. 

That thought specifically, just a whisper in the back of his mind, has been coming to him quite frequently lately, and almost entirely because of the detective pinned under his discerning gaze.

Then his discerning gaze notices something peculiar.

"Are you wearing a skirt?" 

The smile drains from Levy's face for only the briefest of seconds as he looks shocked at Mason, down at said garment, and back. When it returns, it's no longer the shy, reassuring smile with something inscrutable hiding in the corners, but rather, a mirror of Mason's own wide, lecherous one.

"I guess I am. Something wrong with that?" 

The air between them practically crackles.

"Absolutely not, handsome," Mason says, fangs on full display, "I love skirts." He leans in, breath tickling the detective's ear. He revels in the shiver that racks the smaller man's body. "Makes it real easy for me to--"

A small cough brings Mason's attention back to the room around them; more specifically, the huddled group of vampires who Mason hadn't even noticed when he came crashing in the room.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Mason," Nate says through a gentle smile, voice soft but firm. "Adam was just saying, we should probably scout the perimeter to be safe."

Mason nods in acknowledgement, though he never looks away from the smaller man in front of him. "I'll make sure Levy doesn't get lonely then." 

Levy's heartbeat booms like cannon fire--Mason swears he can feel the reverberation on his own skin.

"The detective will be fine, Mason. The warehouse is reinforced. It's perfectly safe here." Every muscle in Adam's body is twisted and tensed towards the high ceiling. "The faster the four of us get this done, the sooner you can come back and..." 

He trails off, lips curled in a disapproving frown.

"Make sure that Levy is fine. Respectfully. And decently," Nate finishes for him.

Felix, who's spent the entire time choking back a hearty laugh, lets the smallest bark slip. 

Mason's brow lifts, as if asking a silent question. _Should I?_

Levy smirks in return. _Do it._

"I wasn't thinking of anything decent--" 

Adam charges out of the room, stomping so heavily he may just burst through the concrete flooring, much like Felix's laughter finally bursts from his chest in a loud guffaw. Nate gives Mason a weary look, and Levy an apologetic one, sighing deeply and chasing after their leader. Felix follows, his dying chuckles drowning out whatever Nate is murmuring to soothe Adam as they take off down the hallway. When Levy leans forward, burying his forehead in Mason's chest, using the vampire to hide his shaking shoulders, it takes all of his self restraint not to throw him onto the table beside them. Adam be damned.

"Hardass. You should go," Levy mumbles with a smile, drawing away but staying close.

As if to cement it, a loud cry of Mason's name comes from far away.

He grimaces.

"Give me some motivation, handsome. Something to look forward to."

At first, Levy rises on tiptoe as Mason leans towards him, another thrum of tension between them as he pauses just a hair away...and grins another raunchy grin. Once more he pulls away, Mason's breath chasing him as he goes, confused. 

Levy bends down, reaching for the hem of his long skirt and pulling it up slowly, tortuously slow over his leg, exposing inch by inch of alluring skin until he reaches the crook of his hip--and a line of thin line of lacy underwear.

Which he begins to pull down.

Mason's breath hitches in his throat.

He's sure he's being watched for his reaction, every minute expression, studied by those deep blue eyes but he wouldn't know; he's hypnotized and fixated, watching that slip of black lace travel down his thigh as the skirt falls back down.

The detective steps out of the underwear--a thong, Mason can see now, of course it's a thong--and grabs his dumbstruck lover's hand. He presses it into his palm.

"Even easier now, yeah?" Levy rolls his bottom lip between his teeth.

Mason takes a long look at the underwear tangled in his grasp, and runs his free hand over his lips.

"Wow, speechless," Levy snorts. "If I'd have known it was that easy to get that snark out of your mouth, I would've done that months ago." 

It takes a moment before his brain reboots, but when it does, all Mason can do is laugh. 

"Everyone thinks I'm the terrible one," he chuckles, moving in to kiss Levy's sharp cheekbone, hands running over his ribs, the small of his back, inching lower and eliciting small gasps. "They have no idea--"

" ** _MASON!_** "

Ugh.

Snarling over his shoulder, he gives the detective a light nudge to push him back, as if he couldn't bear to be the one to move. Mason finally starts to head towards the exit, walking backwards, never once breaking his gaze with Levy, whose eyes sparkle with pride.

"I'm going to make you scream when I get back." 

Levy laughs. The sound of it rings pleasantly in Mason's ears.

"You better!" is the last thing he hears as he crosses into the fluorescent light of the hallway, cramming the underwear into his pocket.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY NSFW.......use of gendered terms for trans man genetalia (cunt, cock, etc), vaginal sex, public sex, a little fluff at the end im not a monster

"Ma--Mace--" 

"Close?" His breathless voice comes out as a low rumble, more growl than language, lips teasing against his lover's. The only acknowledgement he gets comes from the nails that dig into him, streaking red across his broad back, and the soft panting whimpers every time his cock drives into his cunt.

Fucked speechless. A swell of pride blooms in his chest.

They share the same breath, forehead to forehead, hips rolling together in a frenzied stuttering pace. Levy's arm is crooked across Mason's broad shoulders; his free hand is tucked under his hitched up skirt, stroking his swollen cock as he's pinned in place, pounded into the green felt of the table. His cunt contracts, squeezes around him, fuck--

"Gonna come in you," Mason pants, "Yeah? Lev." As if shocked into action by his own name, Levy nods frantically before smashing their mouths together, tongue and teeth. Cries of the vampire's name fill the air as Levy tenses like a bow string, their lips still pressed together as much as possible, "Mason, Mace--" 

Mason doesn't stop, even as Levy's thighs lock around his hips, tightening around him like a vice. The detective's hips snap like an electric wire, his body shivering and convulsing, cunt clenching around Mason as he comes with a sharp cry, pulling Mason closer, closer.

Another pounding thrust, two, and Mason quickly finds his own release, groaning into one final sloppy, panting kiss.

"Fuck," he slurs, rolling his shoulders under Levy's hands. "Fuck, you're incredible."

Shudders continue to wrack the detective's body as he lays back on the pool table, face plastered with a contented smile. Mason's hands brace on either side of his waist, hovering over Levy with his own pleased grin. Dark hair falls in cascading waves around his jaw, framing the sharp angles of his face, and as Levy settles, breathes, sighs, he just can't help himself from reaching up and running his thumb along it, reveling in the gentle scratch of stubble. 

"Looks like you messed up our game, possum. And I just can't remember where everything was set."

"I think you were the one who messed it up," Levy says with a dark chuckle, "From how hard you were rattling the table." 

"What a shame." 

"I'm fine with it. As I seem to recall, I was winning..." The detective taps his chin, eyes rolled towards his hairline in a mockery of intense thought that makes Mason roll his own. "And then when you realized that, that's when you were suddenly very, very horny." 

"What can I say? I love a man who can kick my ass," Mason grumbles, no small amount of sarcasm loaded into his words. Kisses pepper down the detective's chest, to his stomach, ending at the tattoo at the crook of his hip when he bucks, still sensitive. 

"Ah--ah, but you do love me." Levy raises up onto his elbows with a wide grin, nudging another ball out of the way.

Mason smirks. "I guess so." And nips at the ink.

"Ah! God, Mason..."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no real warnings, just gay panic and some inappropriate language, this one has a weird cut in the middle bc ive given up on writing point a to point c

"Hey."

"What," Levy pants, more breath than voice, fingers digging hard into Mason's shoulder and scalp. He holds Mason against his neck with a desperate grasp, raspy moans tearing from his throat with each nip. Mason's lips drag over the scar, the scar--a speechless _I trust you, I love you_ \--and speaks, soft and honest.

"Turn."

"Mm?" He can feel Levy crank his head towards him. "You gotta put me down first."

"No," Mason hisses, and hauls Levy up higher to prove his point. The detective erupts in a fit of giggles and locks his legs tighter as Mason heaves him up the wall, pressing their foreheads together. "Turn."

"Turn what--" Levy pecks a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "--Or where, or how, sunshine?"

Stormy grey eyes find his own blue.

His gaze is piercing, bright and clear in a way that steals the breath from Levy's lungs.

"Into a vampire." 

The way Levy's heart instantly rattles in his chest makes Mason flinch just a hair, but it echoes his own, like thunder and lightning. The detective mouths the words back, lets them roll around on his tongue as he tries to comprehend. Whatever tension between them was there is gone, the hall suddenly pin-drop quiet. Levy blinks at him once, twice, but never breaks their shared gaze.

"What are you saying?" 

They share one breath, back and forth.

"I said--" 

"No, I--" Levy swallows, hard, hand fisting into the material of the burgundy shirt. "I know what you said, I'm asking what do you mean."

"I mean what I said, possum." Mason shifts Levy's weight in his arms. "Turn. Become a vampire." 

"As in I should? Or you want me to?"

The questions knit his brow, as if he hadn't been expecting anything but a simple yes or no. 

"Both," Mason says with finality, "You should, and I want you to."

After a dumbfounded moment, Levy taps his shoulder twice-- _set me down_ \--and Mason does without question, rolling his shoulders as he straightens, towers. Levy stands on shaky legs, fists balled in the burgundy fabric, and looks up at Mason with reverence.

"I--" Levy stumbles, tongue tied, tripped. "--I feel like I'm going nuts right now." 

"You're acting like it too," Mason says with a soft smile.

"You know what you're saying, right?" Anxious, he rocks on his heels. "That's...forever. That's you and me, forever." He rolls his lips and thumps his fist against muscle. "Forever." 

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it, Lev. I know what it means." 

"We--we've never even talked about marriage, let alone...Mace. Mace, that's--" He runs a hand through his hair, over his mouth. His gaze darts from the floor, down the hall, up to the vampire waiting (surprisingly patiently, although with every passing second he becomes more and more tense, Levy notes) for an answer. 

"Can we...talk about this? I love you," he quickly adds, running hands over Mason's stiff arms. "But this is a big thing to drop on a guy at one in the morning." 

* * *

"Does it hurt?"

Mason shifts beneath him. "I don't remember. You'd have to ask Nate about that. Probably," he murmurs, hand settling on Levy's arm. "I can't imagine it won't. But we'll do everything we can to make it easier, and you're tough." 

A smile lights up Levy's face. "You're the only one who thinks so. I get a papercut and they're all up my ass."

"To be fair, they do the same shit to me," Mason says with a low, rumbling laugh. "They care about you. It's not that they don't think you can handle it, they just know you're a lot more..."

"Fragile?" 

Mason nods.

Quiet settles in again like a heavy blanket, comfortable and warm. They breath in unison, coming and going, the only sound in the pressing darkness as both of them sink into silent thought. 

"How often do people willingly go vampire?" 

"You'd be the first I've ever heard of." 

A soft noise of affirmation. "That's wild. I thought a lot more people would be chomping at the bit to live forever and smell things from a mile a way." 

Mason snorts. "Most people aren't allowed to know it's possible." 

"True..." 

Silence consumes them again.

"You don't have to, Lev."

Levy rolls his head back towards him.

Mason's face shows no signs of tension, no anger, no upset, only fondness as he looks at the man who rises and falls on his chest.

"It's your choice. Just because I want you to doesn't mean you have to. Even if you don't, I'm not going anywhere."

"I know. Trust me, it's a very appealing offer," Levy says, tracing circles with his finger. "I want it. I do, I'm just..."

"Are you scared?" Mason murmurs, pushing a lock of hair away from Levy's face.

"I mean, yeah." No point in lying or hiding--he would know in an instant. "An hour ago I'd never even thought about it. I was perfectly happy to get dicked and pass out for the night," he says with a sharp smile that mirrors on Mason's face, "And now I'm just thinking about everything. Worrying. I'd be taking myself out of the world entirely. What happens to Wayhaven? What happens to all of the people I know? My friends? My mom?" 

Mason's jaw sets, answering without saying anything-- _they die. You don't._

He breathes deep, sighs, continues.

"And in regards to you and me..." He catches Mason's hand at his cheekbone with a light kiss. "I know you love me. I love you. But I can't help but think...Forever is a long time." He inhales, sharp and quick. "What if you get tired of me? What if I'm not 'enticing' anymore? What if--" 

"Stop." 

Levy bites back the rest of his questions.

"That's bullshit," Mason says, firm and blunt as he turns Levy's jaw towards him, holding his gaze. "I love you. There's nothing that could ever change that, Lev. When I said you should turn, I knew it meant forever, and that's what I want. To be with you." He pauses only to gently pull Levy towards him, the smaller man following without protest as he pushes himself up. He hovers close to Mason, faces barely a hair away from each other. 

"Forever," Mason finishes, quiet and gentle.

The kiss they share is needy, chaste, lips barely brushing, breath held in anticipation; the air crackles between them like static. Levy is the one who breaks first, head dipping to capture Mason's mouth with hunger, lips and tongue and teeth, and it is Levy who pulls away first with a gasp, a playful smirk caught between his teeth.

"Even if I grow nine inches overnight?" 

"Oh, handsome," Mason laughs, "That's not gonna happen." 

With no warning and no mercy he flips them over, throwing Levy to the bed as he cackles loudly, squirming against Mason's roaming hands. He crawls up the detective's body, peppering kisses to his stomach, his ribs, over his heart. "What if though! What if I end up taller than you?!" 

"If you grow taller than me," Mason says, stopping at the scar on his neck, "I'll run naked through the streets of Wayhaven in broad daylight."

"Ooh," Levy coos, gasps as Mason nips his neck, "Well now I have to do it. Who am I to deprive the town a chance to get a look at that?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY NSFW, use of gendered terms for trans man genitalia (cunt, cock, etc), oral sex

"I have paperwork," Levy whines in a weak, breathy protest, running his hand through thick, dark hair.   
  
"You never do it anyway."   
  
Mason makes quick work of the zip of Levy's jeans, hooking his thumbs into the waistline of his underwear, a smirk tugging at his lips as Levy lifts his hips and allows everything to be pulled down around his ankles where he kicks them off. He heaves Levy's legs over his shoulders, gently tugging him to the edge of the office chair, trailing up his inner thigh with nipping kisses that draw soft whimpers.  
An affectionate hand glances over his temple, the side of his head, drawing his gaze upward. Levy's dark eyes him in, framed by his thighs, with an inscrutable expression on his face--soft, almost fond, watching him with care. The sound of his heart, his blood thundering under his heated skin is deafening.  
Mason's throat tightens, and he's not sure why.   
  
He shakes the feeling away.  
  
"At least make an effort to act discrete, handsome."  
  
"Shut the fuck up," Levy bites back, tender gaze replaced by his usual knitted brow, though his heart still hammers away. "Are you going down on me or not? I seriously do have paperwo--"  
  
Mason answers with a broad, flat stroke of his tongue over Levy's cunt, and all protests quickly die.  
  
With fervor, he laps at Levy's cock, lips closing around it and sucking deeply. Mason earns himself a sharp tug in his hair as his hips buck, Levy's mouth slack with pleasure. Thighs press against Mason's ears, holding him in place as he bobs, lips drawing over him--Levy moans, barely muffled by his hand as Mason relentlessly laves his swollen cock.  
  
Chin wet with slick, Mason takes space for a moment, just long enough for Levy to growl in annoyance, and he throws him a shit-eating grin. "The volunteer's gonna hear you."   
  
"Shut _up_ ," Levy hisses, flustered and panting, and pushes Mason's face back into his cunt.  
  
Mason captures his head, tongues under the hood of his cock and Levy practically gushes, back arching from the chair. Heat thrums through him like a molten wave; how quickly Mason can undo him, cunt drenched, cock and lips swollen--  
  
And then, with no pause or warning, Mason pushes two fingers into him, and Levy tears into his own lip with the effort not to yell.   
  
With one hand--tangled in his dark locks, nails at his scalp--he holds Mason in place, and with the other he claws the arm of the office chair, bracing himself while rolling his hips against Mason's mouth, riding his fingers, whispering pleads for more. The chair creaks in protest, offering no help as he writhes, tries to grind against the flat of his tongue, panting and heaving.  
  
"F-fuck, Mason," he keens, and it turns to a yelp as a third finger breaches him.  
  
Three fingers stuffed in his cunt, mercilessly pounding, curled into him as Mason sucks his cock does it; Levy fushes with slick as he comes _hard_ , holding his head to him with all of his strength, tense like a bowstring, legs snapped shut and trapping him as a wail punches from his lungs. Orgasm hits him fast and strong like electricity pulsing from his cock, Mason chasing him, sucking, fucking him through it even as he clenches, spasms, thrashes. Even after Levy collapses bonelessly, the chair giving a great groan under him, Mason's mouth stays locked to him, drawing more spasms and frenzied twitches, almost to the point of pain.  
  
"Please, please--" Levy gasps, ragged and breathless, pushing at Mason's forehead.  
  
"One more." Mason's voice is hardly more than a growl, deep and rich with lust, his hair tangled and disheveled, the corner of his mouth quirked in a pleased, lazy grin.  
  
"I can't--I can't," Levy pleads, still shivering, covering himself with his hand, "Keri's gonna hear it, I can't be quiet through two. Jesus, Mace."   
  
"You weren't even quiet through one," Mason says fondly as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand and presses a kiss to his inner thigh, reveling in the twitch that starts from it and wracks the detective's whole body.   
  
"That's your fault, not mine," Levy smiles, but it falters; with an apologetic wince, Levy pets down Mason's hair, picking small tangles out as gently as he can. "Sorry about your hair."   
  
"It's fine, handsome," Mason purrs, "I'll ruin yours at home." 


End file.
